Music of the Distant Stars Read Free Page B

fun of him – although, of course, they did – it was also that if he ever met a girl he liked, some other lad would have charmed her with his silken tongue and led her away while poor Haward was still struggling to say h–h–h–h–hello .
    Zarina isn’t like the other girls, either in our village or any other in the vicinity. She isn’t really like anyone. She’s got hair so black it almost looks blue, and her eyes are a greenish-gold colour that changes according to what she’s wearing. Her skin is smooth and silky, the colour of pale oak wood. She’s only a year or so older than me, but she seems ancient, somehow, as if she’s seen a lot and has had to learn how to look after herself. Haward met her at the Lammas Fair, where she was in the company of a group of travelling entertainers. It was unclear whether or not they were her kin, but either way she had no compunction about staying behind when they moved on – she’d met Haward by then – and now she lodges with an elderly widow in the village and spends her days doing laundry. If – when – she marries my brother, she’ll make an interesting addition to the family.
    Zarina, however, comes at a price, and that price is her brother Derman. I don’t know how Haward feels about his prospective brother-in-law, for we have not spoken on the subject. Knowing Haward as I do, I imagine he will readily make room in his life for poor Derman if it means he can marry his beloved Zarina. My brother is full of what the Christians say characterized Jesus Christ: a sort of all-encompassing loving kindness that accepts people for who and what they are. Had Derman been evil, malicious, spiteful or sinful, it might have been a different matter, but what ails him is not his fault – Zarina says he was born that way – and Haward is not likely to hold such misfortune against him. If Haward and Zarina marry – and I am all but sure they will – then the family and the rest of Aelf Fen will just have to make the best of it and accept Derman, even if he does look like a gargoyle and frighten little children. Zarina has implied that he cannot support himself and, as she is apparently the only living relative who cares whether he lives or dies, it is up to her to take charge of him. I suppose we’ll get used to him, given time.
    I handed Derman into the care of his sister – our knock on the door must have woken Zarina, for she answered it with loose, tumbled hair, a sleepy expression and a tattered old shift clutched loosely around her body, and even under those circumstances she looked absolutely lovely – and, waving aside her thanks, I hurried away.
    Edild was already up. She was stirring the breakfast porridge as I arrived and I noticed bread and a pot of honey on the table; she knew I would not have broken my fast before I set out, and clearly she wished to have food ready for my return.
    One look at my face told her something was wrong.
    ‘What?’ The single word cut the tense silence in the tidy, fragrant little house.
    Swiftly, I told her. Her face went pale, and her eyes widened in shock. Without another look at the carefully-prepared meal that lay waiting for us, she grabbed my arm and dragged me back along the track to the burial island.
    We did not speak as we hurried along. Sometimes we ran, then we would slacken our pace for a while and reduce it to a fast walk. When we crossed the planks on to the island, both of us were red-faced and sweaty. I knew, even before Edild laid a restraining hand on my arm, that this was no way to approach my grandmother’s grave. We helped each other, Edild rearranging my hair and I hers, each of us straightening the other’s robe as best we could. Edild took a large, folded square of linen from her sash, and we both wiped our faces. By now our breathing was almost back to normal; my aunt took my hand, and together we stepped up to the stone slab.
    We each took a corner and pushed hard. The slab moved quite readily; I